Life in Meals
by Vinegar Pandas
Summary: You write what you eat: a Kratos/Anna collection of oneshots showcasing a great deal of foods, from pasta to pig feet.
1. LNR: Capellini al Pomodoro

Hello, this is Lady Nephenee Ranulf. As you can see, "Vinegar Pandas" has no relation whatsoever to "Lady Nephenee Ranulf". However, I am pleased to note that this is in fact the beginnings of hopefully a fruitful collaboration with fellow ToS writer Lilikoifish. Do not ask where "Vinegar Pandas" arose from. She chose the name.

Anyway, welcome to _Life in Meals_. I myself have not written any Kratos/Anna for a long time (two years now?), and thus look forward to additionally trying to dust the cobwebs off. Om nom nom and do enjoy!

All standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

**Capellini Al Pomodoro**

**or**

**In Which Kratos Kindly Reminds His Dearly Beloved that Tomatoes are the Bane of His Existence**

"You do understand that I cannot eat this?" Kratos poked an accusing finger at the offending tomato poking its vibrant colored head cheerily from the midst of his plate of pasta.

Anna hid a laugh behind her hand and adopted a lecturing tone eerily similar to Kratos' own. "Stop acting like a petulant child, sir. It's unbecoming for a man your age."

"Do not attempt to reason with me on this one, Anna. You know perfectly well that I cannot abide by tomatoes, and I know that you know because I _specifically told you_." He had presented his reasons (in a logical list-like format, even) only a month ago, when a similar situation had presented itself. "Do you need me to repeat my list again? I will be more than willing."

"I don't think we need a repeat of that monstrosity," his wife said.

"Then you understand my refusal."

"They're all just a bunch of petty excuses, you know, and you can't even taste the tomato properly. So what's the fuss all about?" Anna put her hands on her hips, and gave him her best _don't-mess-with-me-fool_ look. It was significantly less chilling than his, but it would hopefully do. He tended to melt when she gave him the proper sort of eyes, after all.

"The texture is enough to put me off," her stubborn husband insisted. "When you lose your sense of taste, everything depends on texture. And look at this" –he impaled the tomato on his fork and held it up for her inspection- "what's more, it appears, and I know my eyes are not deceiving me, to be _green_." He shook his fork to accentuate his point, sending tomato bits flying. "Green, woman. It's bad enough when they're red, but green?"

Anna harrumphed, crossing her arms in yet another emulation of her husband. "It's an _heirloom_ variety, dear. It's meant to be that color." She noticed him opening his mouth to retort and cut him off with a swift gesture. "Ah, ah, ah, I'm not finished yet."

He grumbled audibly. She continued: "I bought it because I thought that maybe you wouldn't mind it if it didn't quite look like a tomato- or at least a conventional tomato."

"…were you trying to fool me again?" Kratos sensed something fishy.

"Uh, no?"

"Do not think for a second that I have not forgotten about the smoothie incident, Anna." Damn. He was still holding that against her.

"Kratos, can you think of any other fruits- er, vegetables- that are green like that?"

"There probably is one." Unfortunately, he could not think of any off the top of his head.

"Well I wasn't trying to pass it off as a tomatillo, for your information. Those don't work very well in capellini—at least, not in this recipe." Not to mention that the color scheme was thrown completely off by the intruding bright green. Basil had a much more appropriate shade. "Would you rather I put yellow ones in? I bought those too."

"Haven't I already proven that the color doesn't matter, so long as it is still a tomato?"

"I'm just covering my bases," Anna replied.

Kratos set the fork and tomato down on his plate. "Anna, is it really so hard to just buy something else? We've had this argument too many times for me to count now, and personally I am tired of having to repeat myself, since you insist on rejecting my established reasons for disliking tomatoes."

She looked at him pleadingly. "But they're my favorite…" Her arsenal of weapons to use against him was almost sapped: so far, she'd tried logic, intimidation, pleading...maybe she would have to use feminine wiles to get him to finally eat one of the damned things?

The seraph stared at her disbelievingly. "I enjoy a good steak, but that doesn't mean I force people to try to consume one whenever I decide to have steak."

"You know, that's one thing I don't get. What the hell does a steak feel like?" It had taken a little while to get used to her husband commenting on dinner with such things as "a little tender for my tastes" (broiled fish) or "Too firm; maybe you should have added some more cream?" (mashed potatoes). They were all decent things to say, but when that was all he ever had to say, well…it got a bit unnerving, especially with soup. There wasn't much by way of texture when it came to soup. It was just…soupy.

"Like steak," Kratos said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You've made one before; I'm sure I don't need to elaborate."

"You're absolutely infuriating sometimes, do you know that?" Honestly, the things she dealt with…

Her husband smirked noticeably. "You're very welcome."

Sometimes Anna wasn't quite sure what was worse: Kratos Aurion, depressing and silent angel; or Kratos Aurion, deliverer of irritatingly smart remarks. In any case, it was time to change the subject before she made a complete fool out of herself.

"Kratos," Anna cajoled, "look, just one little bite? Who knows? Your non-existent taste buds might have changed in the past millennium."

He didn't like her teasing very much, judging from the speed at which his smirk had magically vanished. _Score one point for Anna Aurion_, she thought.

"I highly doubt that."

Anna looked desperately at their plates. "The pasta's getting stone cold…"

"Well perhaps then you should give up and allow me to eat as I am inclined to, if you want to partake while it's still warm."

"And they're so very good for you…"

"Anna, I have yet to contract any illnesses for the past four thousand years."

"Especially for men…" She gave him a forlorn look.

"That's enough." He responded with an irritated glare. There were some things that were better off not being mentioned over the dinner table or any table at all.

Anna sighed and shook her head in exasperation. Honestly, the man could endure a thousand wounds for her, but when it came to something as simple as one tomato, he was hopeless.

"Kratos Aurion, you are going to be the death of me one day."

* * *

Well, there you have it. I hope you enjoyed the ironic bite of that last line as much as I did. Also, tomatillos may or may not have existed in the twin worlds, but whatever. Additionally: as you can see, I am assuming that Kratos cannot taste foods. The keyword is "assuming".

Lastly, apologies for any perceived OOC. My Kratos-voice isn't quite used to interacting with women who actually like him.


	2. Lfish: Smoothies

**A/N:** Hey hey! This be Lilikoifish taking over for this chappie. In the last chapter, there was a reference to a "smoothie incident" so I decided to elaborate a little bit on that. Enjoy! Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

**Smoothies**

**Or**

**In which Kratos accidentally calls something with tomatoes in it, "Not bad"**

* * *

"HAAAA!"

_WHAM!_

"YAAAAH!"

_Squelch._

"Must you make so much noise?" Kratos asked irritably.

"Hey it powers me up. What can I say? You said you were in the mood for something refreshing today, so I decided a smoothie would be good," Anna replied.

"I didn't have food in mind when I meant something 'refreshing'," Kratos mumbled.

"Well I wasn't exactly thinking of a bed when you said 'refreshing'," she retorted. Kratos scowled at her and stared at the mixture of fruits she had squashed together rather messily into a bowl.

"You do realize that the state that 'smoothie' is in is absolutely disgusting," Kratos commented. Anna pretended not to have heard that comment and went on adding more fruit juices.

"Relax, Kratos. I'm hardly finished."

"I can hardly wait."

"You could at least show some appreciation for all the hard work that your lovely wife is putting into making this. Besides, I put in a lot of effort putting up with you and your stubbornness."

Kratos sighed and mumbled something incomprehensible under his breath.

"Could you leave for a minute? I can't concentrate when you keep making rude comments about my cooking." Kratos scowled at her again, but left.

…and Anna struggled to keep from bursting out into a fit of laughter as she squeezed the juice of a tomato into her formula of fruit juices.

* * *

"Kratos, you can come back now; it's finished!" Anna called, pouring the drink into a glass. Kratos trudged in and examined it.

"What? It's not like I poisoned it or anything like that."

"But there is a possibility that you added something…distasteful in it."

"Don't be ridiculous, Kratos. I love you. I wouldn't do anything of the sort," Anna said cattily, meandering too close to him for comfort.

Kratos arched an eyebrow. "I'm even **more** suspicious about this now."

"Oh come ON, Kratos. Don't be a wuss. Look, I even added some cream in it because I knew you'd like it like that since you're all into the texture of your food and can't taste crap."

"Ha ha. Very amusing."

"Please taste it? I spent a really long time preparing this and it would just shatter my heart if you didn't try it," Anna begged. She gave him a look of desperation, her eyes wide and filled with tears already. How could he say no to that face?

"Fine. I give in." Kratos lifted the glass to his lips and took the smallest of sips.

"Well…?" Anna asked.

"Not bad."

In an instant, all the tears and desperation were forgotten and a small snicker was able to escape from Anna's lips before she was able to prevent herself from laughing.

"What?" Kratos lowered the glass cautiously.

"Nooooothing…"

"You added something," Kratos said. Her behavior was far too suspicious for something to go unnoticed.

"Well yes I **did** add **one** little teeny ingredient while you were away…"

Not good. The way she was speaking now was hinting at something Kratos knew he would not like.

"Which is?"

"Something...red."

Definitely not good. Kratos knew his wife knew him too well. His distaste for tomatoes had already come to her attention, and he had already tried a variety of foods in which she had tried to sneak the nasty little things into.

_Dammit it better not be what I think it is…_he thought.

"And what would that be?"

"…Strawberries."

Kratos shot a glare at the woman sitting next to him, who had a look of wickedness drawn across her face.

"I would appreciate it if you would stop playing these kinds of games."

"But I'm not playing around! I added strawberries, I swear."

"No, you're just trying to scare me into thinking you added…**that** food." Kratos swirled the drink around for a bit and re-"tasted" it for traces of tomatoes.

"Oh THAT food? Yeah I added that."

Kratos nearly spewed the smoothie all over her.

"You did WHAT?"

"I added THAT food. You know. Kiwis." Anna smiled slyly at him as he shot her another glare.

"Will you please get to the point?"

"Was there ever a point?"

"Please."

"Please what? Feed you a tomato?"

"You know me damn well enough to know what I mean."

"Oh so you DO want a tomato. In THAT case…"

_DAMMIT WOMAN YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN! _Kratos wanted to scream at her. Of course, for the sake of love he could never really scream at her. He licked his lips before replying.

"Just tell me if there is a tomato in this cup of mashed up fruit."

"Oh now **that** is just plain rude. You're insulting my smomatoes."

"Your **what**."

"Oh you know…my smomatoes!"

Red alert. Anything with that rhymed with tomato (or tomatoes for that matter) was not a good sign for Kratos. It was blatantly obvious to him now that Anna had added tomatoes to the smoothie.

"…So you added tomatoes to this thing."

"Oh did I say smomatoes? I mean smotatoes."

"You added potatoes to this mess?" Kratos was beginning to become very irritated with their line of conversation.

"Geez **someone's** grumpy today. I was just making a joke."

"I'm grumpy because **someone** won't tell me whether or not she poisoned this thing or not."

"I **didn't** poison it! Okay so maybe I added a tomato to it—"

Damn. Did Anna just catch him calling a tomato smoothie "not bad"?

"…Anna."

Kratos took a deep breath before continuing.

"Yes, my sweet darling ice cream sundae with a cherry…**tomato** on top?"

"One, I would prefer you not comparing me to a food with a tomato on it. Two, I am very upset with you."

"Oh come on. It's just a tomato. It's not going to kill you."

"I would not be upset if you had no idea, but you know very well that I do not like tomatoes."

"Well you asked for something refreshing and I gave it to you. I've always like my smoothies with a hint of tomato juice. I guess I just forgot that I was making it for you too."

"After insisting that I wasn't appreciating all your hard work?"

Anna opened her mouth to protest, but closed it. Kratos sighed and got up, knowing full well what type of thing she would have said.

"…Next time, don't prepare me food when I ask for something refreshing."

"Then don't ask for it."

* * *

**A/N:** I actually had a lot of fun with this one. It was really fun messing around with Anna's behavior. Hope everyone enjoyed it too!

LNR and I were really impressed with the amount of reviews and support we got! We really want to take this collection of oneshots really far, so all your support is really appreciated since you guys motivate us so much. Hopefully, the next chapter will be out next week. LNR and I are hoping to get weekly updates, so yeah. Look for this fic every week! Thanks for all your support!


	3. LNR: Ice Cream

And we move away from tomatoes! This one ends less jovially than the previous two, but honestly, the previous way it was written was _horrendous_. Lfish can attest to this.

Also, if there was any continuity to this, this chapter would be placed before "Smoothies" and "Capellini..." We just keep going back in time, don't we?

* * *

**Plum and Chocolate Ice Cream**

**or**

**In Which Kratos Reveals that He Has No Sense of Taste (And Not Just in Clothing)**

"What is this?" Kratos examined the icy lump sitting atop a cone with some interest.

"It's ice cream, silly," Anna said, nudging him good naturedly in the arm with her elbow. "Don't tell me you've never had any before; I mean, the way you describe Derris Whatever makes it sound like you've got plenty of ice to spare up there." She took a large lick of her own scoop, looking very content.

"It's Derris _Kharlan_," he said pointedly. "You would do well to remember that name."

"Well have you had any or not?" She made it a point to ignore what he had just said.

"I was just getting to that," Kratos said with a scowl. "And yes, I have had ice cream before. It was long ago." He remembered the lone parlor in Meltokio eons ago; he was a younger man then, still with his future presumably ahead of him.

"Well, then you shouldn't act like there's a spider there instead. Enjoy something for once; you're always so sour," Anna replied. She was almost halfway done with her ice cream at this point; he marveled at the rate she was consuming it.

"Hmph." He took a lick to satisfy her.

"At least tell me if you like the flavor. I thought it might be appropriate for summer: plum and chocolate!"

"I can't." He sorted through the textures of the dessert: there was a smoothness to the whole thing (no doubt because of the cream), although he could still sense the minute ice crystals on his tongue. And then there was the chocolate. Well, identifying that was simple: it stood out with its brittle chunks.

All the same, he could not taste it, only attempt his feeble "system" of tasting by texture, carefully constructed over four thousand years.

She frowned. "What do you mean, 'I can't'?"

"I have no sense of taste, Anna." Might as well tell her before a more awkward situation arose…

Anna looked at his clothes for a second, noticing the horrid amount of fabric everywhere. (They were in need of a good shopping trip, it seemed.) "I can see that," she said in a slightly patronizing tone.

Kratos sighed in exasperation. "Not in that sense. I cannot taste foods."

She stopped mid-lick and regarded him with widened eyes. She'd known that he didn't seem to need basic things like food or sleep that much thanks to the funny rock in his hand, but…"Really?"

"Yes."

"Honestly?"

"Yes."

"Truthfully?"

"Yes."

"Verily?"

"…Anna." He was giving her that look again, she noticed, the one that clearly read, _have you any intelligence at all?_

"All right, all right; just having a little fun at your expense, you know."

"I can see that." Kratos looked a little offended.

"No need to act like I've just stabbed you in the heart." For someone apparently emotionless, he sure could be melodramatic.

"No need at all." He echoed her words back to her, like a dutiful parrot.

Seconds passed. Finally, she couldn't stand the silence anymore.

"Hurry up and take another lick, fool."

"But I just told you—"

"—that you can't taste things. Yes, all right, but it's still a nice gesture, considering I bothered to get you a cone. And I don't think you want it melting all over you. Which it's starting to do."

Kratos nearly returned with a smart remark, but caught himself when he noticed the trickle of melted ice cream cascading down the side of the cone. A hasty lick and it disappeared.

"So what do you taste then?" Anna asked. "I mean, what does it feel like?"

He considered this carefully for a minute or so before answering. "It's hard to explain. I can feel the food in my mouth, but there is no other sensation. I imagine it would be something like tasting ashes, or perhaps water. I wouldn't know." Feeling it appropriate, he added, "I normally try to 'taste' based off of textures."

Anna frowned. "But don't a lot of foods kind of feel the same? Like, uh, oranges and grapefruit."

"There are slight variations in texture that I have trained myself to pick up over the years." He stopped himself from saying "centuries". "To use your example, oranges are generally juicier to me than grapefruit, which are 'meatier'."

She considered this. "That sounds way too complicated."

"Complicated is the best I can manage."

Anna's face fell. "You know, I wish you had told me this earlier; I wouldn't have bothered with the ice cream if I knew that you couldn't enjoy it to the fullest."

Kratos hastily tried to reassure her: a sad Anna quickly degenerated into a storm cloud that engulfed them both. "No, I appreciate the sentiment, truly. We've only known each other for a matter of months. I didn't think—"

She waved him off. "It's all right; you don't have to try to cheer me up." She gave him a sad sort of smile. "You tend to be a little pathetic at it, if you don't mind me saying."

Well, wasn't that a dagger in the back? "…right."

Anna sighed. "Don't give me that hurt look. I'm all good- really! I just thought that, you know, since you're kind of uptight a lot you'd be able to loosen up if we just did something fun and simple, like get ice cream. I didn't think there were going to be all these problems." She finished off her own scoop.

"I didn't mean to neglect telling you about the effects of my Cruxis Crystal." Kratos rubbed the surface of the stone out of habit.

"But I've got one too, and I'm not that affected..." She held up her hand for emphasis.

"Yours is incomplete; it is only natural then that you do not feel the full effects," he pointed out.

"Maybe if you removed your crystal thing just temporarily…?"

Kratos didn't have the heart to correct her. "I'm not sure that would be a wise course of action. My tastes might not return instantly, and even if they did, I do run the risk of possible sensory overload."

She pulled a face. "You sound like a robot when you say that. Are you sure there's no other way?"

He pondered this while absentmindedly taking a lick (old reflexes?); surprisingly the answer was not too difficult.

"You can taste it for me." And she was suddenly graced with a shy, brilliant smile, presumably due to his stroke of genius. A grin of her own blossomed, and, taking the assumed hint, Anna swooped in to kiss him soundly.

She reveled in the taste: the chocolate lingering on his lips, the tart taste of plum, and the sensation of ice cream dancing across her tongue even as it met his- or was it truly the ice cream? He was so cold, she realized, so numb. There was a certain mechanical element to his passion, as if it was being fueled by feelings that were still slowly emerging from winter's hibernation.

It was several seconds before they broke apart. "How did it taste?" The smile had faded slightly, but it was still there, barely hanging on.

_He needs to smile more often_. _His mouth looks out of shape. _"Like plum and chocolate, as it should. Um…tart with a rich dulcet tone, if you want to be more eloquent." It was hard, she realized, describing something whose taste came so naturally that she couldn't find words to properly convey it.

Kratos processed this, trying to summon from his memories anything that could for but a moment trick his tongue into relaying the appropriate signals to his brain. "And how did it feel?"

Anna blinked, taken aback. "Like…ice. Like you." She blushed violently as he stared. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to—"

"—imply that I feel like ice? No offense taken; I have been compared to worse things," Kratos said wryly.

"I'm sorry." It was all she could say.

"Don't be. You can't help it." Kratos replied bitterly. "Four thousand years is an unimaginable span of time for the human mind. A man cannot deny his desires for long, yes, but he can deny his heart forever, to the point where it no longer pains him."

"Then melt," Anna said.

"What?" He looked at her in disbelief.

Anna face palmed. You had to be patient with this one. "I know you heard me. _Melt_, Kratos Aurion. You already want to; I could feel it in that kiss. You can't feel anything by your own power, so you try so desperately to recall what you felt in the past, even though it's beyond you. There are cracks in the ice." One last coy grin before she was done. "And high time, too: summer is already here."

By now the ice cream was a liquid ruin; Kratos resigned it to a trash bin. "But summer will end," he began carefully, taking her hand in his, his thumb moving in slow circles over the top of her hand. "And winter will come. What then?"

Anna glanced at the trash can. "That ice cream I bought you was your warning, I guess."

Kratos frowned, thumb slowing to a halt. "Explain."

She smiled. "Silly, _I'm_ summer."

* * *

Can you tell that I'm terrible with romance? Bah, I have no experience in these matters.

And in case any of you were wondering, plum and chocolate ice cream is actually something that Lfish and I practically lived on this summer. Excellent stuff, wot.

NEXT TIME FROM LNR: Wine tasting!


	4. LNR: Wine Tasting

Well, LFish is kind of in a catatonic state in terms of fanfiction, so I've taken it upon myself to write the next fic—that, and I don't want to do my math homework.

This one is based off of a little humorous display that I saw while visiting COPIA (which has since closed sob) in Napa Valley about five years ago. There was an exhibit about food (as befitting a center of **food**, wine, and the arts), and the display was a guide to wine tasting as demonstrated by Brunhilda and (I think) Olaf from the comic _Farley_. Lfish and I still get a good kick out of remembering that.

Mostly dialogue, so it looks a little skimpy.

* * *

**Wine Tasting**

**Or**

**In Which Kratos Attempts to Refine His Wife**

"…now carefully tilt the glass away from you, toward the light." Kratos demonstrated in one refined movement, tilting the glass at an impossible angle to let the light filter through the pale liquid within.

Anna tried "Okay, I think I got that—OOPS!" The wine was heading perilously toward the rim of the glass; she righted it hastily in an attempt to contain it. "Ehehehe I almost had it…"

Kratos raised an eyebrow. "Be glad we don't have anything expensive covering the floor. You might have given me a heart attack otherwise."

Anna pouted. "Oh shut it, you. You can't expect me to do everything right the first time. Besides, this is so stupid! Why can't you enjoy a nice glass of wine without spending half an hour staring at it first?"

"This is part of the experience," her husband replied serenely.

"'Part of the experience' my ass! Alright, so it looks pale in the candlelight. Well you know what? If I look at the wine while it's on the table, wonder of wonders: _it's still pale_!" She set the glass down and slapped both hands to her cheeks in a look of mock amazement.

"That is incorrect," Kratos said without blinking. "The clarity is emphasized more in the light, so the wine appears closer to a pale beige tone than the goldenrod—"

"The _what_?" His wife looked about ready to tear out her hair; Kratos decided it was time to abandon this particular thread.

"Never mind," he said hastily. "We'll move on."

"Is this the part where we actually drink the damn stuff?" She huffed impatiently as she picked up the glass yet again.

"No. Another important component to a good wine is its bouquet," Kratos said matter-of-factly.

"…aren't those for flowers?" Anna appeared confused, and probably rightly so.

"The term applies to wines as well," her husband explained. "Specifically, it refers to the scent. Some wines have a more floral bouquet, others a fruity one…"

"Well of course it has a fruity scent," Anna said, cutting in. "Wine's made out of grapes, right? S'not like there's strawberry in here…is there?" She squinted at the liquid.

Oh the unfortunate task of dealing with the uncultured. Kratos groaned to himself and said patiently, "No, there are just grapes, Anna."

"Don't be so patronizing," she snapped, looking a little scandalized at being caught two-timing with ignorance. "I was just checking; that's all."

"Very well," Kratos replied, expertly hiding his amusement. "Now, swirl the wine—_slowly_." He gave her a long look, waiting for a disaster to strike.

"What?" To his good fortune, none had occurred, although now she was looking very confused.

"Nothing. Now, swirl the wine slowly and—what is it?" Now she was the one giving him a searching look, which actually gave him a slight chill: Anna, eyes narrowed and with wine glass held perilously aloft off to the side by the stem, made for an imperious sight indeed. It was almost like Yggdrasil staring him down from across the long meeting table back in Derris-Kharlan.

She blinked and all of a sudden that steel magnolia vision he'd been having dissipated. "What? What'd I do?"

Kratos sighed. "You were giving me a very interesting look."

"I was? Oh- no, I was just paying really close attention. You know, gotta retain everything the first time around now." Anna tapped her noggin with a finger for emphasis.

"…Right." And now he'd lost his train of thought. Blast.

Luckily, his wife chose that moment to unknowingly save him: "Hey, Kratos…"

"Hm?"

"Can we, you know, kind of skip this step? I just really wanted to enjoy a glass of wine with dinner, and this is getting kind of tedious. Like, I'd-rather-hang-out-with-Noishe tedious."

"You would?" Kratos asked. That hurt.

"Well, at least your furry dog-thing doesn't try to force antiquated ceremony crap on you." She set her cup down resolutely on the table top with a _clink_.

"It's not antiquated; it's _refined_."

"And I'm not a noblewoman; I'm _Anna_."

There was a long silence before Kratos quietly said, "Touché."

"YES!" Anna did an undignified fist pump. "HA. TAKE _THAT_!" The finger she pointed sharply at him might have gone through his wine glass had he not hastily gotten it out of the way.

…and then just as quickly she had quieted down. "So, can we indulge?" She was almost bouncing up and down in her seat from the excitement.

_Oh for the love of…it's just a glass of _wine. "It's not the same if you just slop it all down," he said with a frown.

She apparently hadn't heard him (or else assumed he said "yes"- which he hadn't), for the next thing he knew his spouse had tilted the wine glass nearly upside down, downing the contents of the cup in one satisfying gulp.

Kratos sat there, horrified, his completely full glass of wine still held in his hand.

Anna smacked her lips. "Mmm that's a good vintage right there." She looked from his wine to his expression. "I haven't grown an extra arm, have I?"

"No…"

"Are you going to drink that?" She pointed at the full glass.

"Ah…" Alas, he wasn't quick enough to respond: the next thing he knew, she'd leaned over the table, snatched the glass from his fingers, and downed that as well. She sat back in her chair, a smug and satisfied smile fixed broadly on her face.

"The _nerve_," Kratos said as he sat there in shock.

Anna snorted. "Oh please, you can't even taste it anyway."

* * *

Kudos if you caught the reference to a certain lawyer.


End file.
